Every Sunday night I'm given an occasion to purse my lips, total prude-style, and ponder the strange Game Of Thrones Mature Content cocktail: Begin with 2-3 shots of jiggling boobs, add a healthy dose of girl-on-girl dry humping, and be liberal with the good old doggie-style fornication. Don't forget to line the entire rim of the glass with a sticky coating of incest. It truly is everything a 13-year-old boy might be unhealthily curious about. But other than to stoke the boners of gentlemen and ladies alike, why is the show giving us this stuff?

If you're not a fan of the HBO series (and you're now exclaiming loudly to your computer, "Why would I ever be?"), let me briefly school you on the sexual politics of the last two seasons: royal siblings who do the nasty! Incest babies! A particularly randy Peter Dinklage! Copious brothel scenes! Brawny lords who have never even heard of the concept of "her pleasure!" (Or lubricant.)

Now don't get me wrong — I'm all for a good sex scene that tells us something about someone. Anyone! Yes, the sex scenes serve the overall purpose of conveying to the audience the impression that the GoT fantasy world is one of sexual hedonism. And I'm particularly fond of randy Peter Dinklage. But I am not down when gratuitous scenes of sexual shenanigans (or SOSS, for short) get in the way of storytelling — this is a one hour series, after all, and we have four more books' worth of storyline to get through.

Let me summarize my eye-rolling disdain of time-sucking tits and ass for fans and noobs alike by recapping just one of the alarming four SOSS in a recent episode: We cut to a charming, Zagat-rated seaside brothel, owned by Littlefinger, one of the King's councilmen — we see one naked prostitute, boobs-a-swingin', entertaining a paying customer. But wait, there's a second prostitute involved! Titillating! Then we see that this menage a trois is being watched through a peephole by another customer, who's receiving some vigorous fellatio from another prostitute — and then we see that this pair is actually being watched through a second peephole by the brothel's proprietor, Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish. Yes, we're talking meta-peepholery. Bet you didn't even know that was a thing. And was it crucial to any plot in any way? Not at all!

I must also make mention of another particularly ludicrous SOSS from season one, a scene that makes the aforementioned Caligula-esque scene look like nothing more than a saucy French postcard. In a scene that hardcore fans are sure to remember, Littlefinger delivers a rather lengthy monologue while two hookers are practicing their O-face skills on each other with utmost dedication, humping each other the way the Barefoot Contessa's hands work a succulent lump of wet dough.

To be fair, these two scenes are absolutely the most graphic and sexually explicit scenes in GoT history, but HBO didn't allow me enough time to recover (or masturbating geeks enough time to tidy up their Kleenex pile) before it broke one of its own unwritten rules. In the episode that included the now infamous peephole brothel scene, we were also treated to not one, not two, but three additional sex scenes. Fans are usually only treated to one "twack-twack-twack" interlude — so this was an unexpected delight, particularly in the scenes' sheer brutism and unpleasantness and incestuousness. (Incest: Officially a tried and true HBO shock-value staple.)

But did these boundary-breaking scenes actually establish anything about the characters? Did they serve to develop the plot in any way? Not really. So what's the point? Titillation is cheap when there's no greater purpose.

Women (and their vaginas) have to suffer a lot at the hands of men on GoT. These are hard times, what with civil war 8 different ways, terrifying White Walkers, etc. Which is why homely women all over the land have to get unmercifully screwed from behind like it's their patriotic duty.

At this point, if you've never seen the show, you might be wondering why the hell you should tune in at all (or you might be feverishly programming your DVR right now, per). Please trust me when I say I wouldn't sit through an hour of sloppy breasts and Dungeons & Dragons-esque tomfoolery if this were not one of the best shows on television. Watch the first episode from season one and you will buy into the entire GoT landscape hook, line, and sinker. There are fabulous beasties, admirable, honorable heroes, lovably dishonorable villains aplenty, and dozens of stories that interweave like...well, like a glistening medieval tapestry. But with more boobs. So many more boobs.

I don't think GOT's ratings would suffer if they toned down the tits. But I myself will be doing a shot every time someone disrobes in every new episode. Join me, won't you? Hopefully we all won't be killed by cirrhosis of the liver before the season finale.

Emily Anderson is a freelance writer/blogger currently living in Reno, NV. She is not at all addicted to roulette.